Electra's reply arrives the next day. Though there isn't much depth to it. She says that rather than her writing several essays in response to our questions, it would be better to et in person. But she doesn't intend to co to the office in which she is clearly unwelco, so it's likely best to wait until I return to the Academy so that we can talk then, assuming we're not planning to take any action until after Holy Days.
We are not, but it's still a little frustrating that I won't be able to do much more until classes have begun. I'll be sitting around doing not much now, and then struggling to keep up with conflicting priorities in a couple of weeks' ti. Unless it would be possible for to work ahead with classes… probably not without access to the textbooks, though.
Then again, there is a large library I can go to which might well have copies of those textbooks. It might well be possible. I'll need to actually work out how to take out books if I want them over Holy Days, but that's hardly an insurmountable obstacle.
Once it's been established that my taking up space in Tara's office probably isn't of much use, I set off for the library to do just that. But I'm interrupted by Jamie as I walk through the reception area. I'm surprised, considering he's been steadfastly pretending I don't exist for the last while.
"I have a ssage for you," he says, looking as if he's swallowed a whole lemon. "From Lord Blackthorn." He hands a small envelope.
I open it there and then: if it were that sensitive, he wouldn't send it through the office of Roberts and Bryant. It's exactly the sort of thing I would have expected him to write.
Your concern is noted and will be dealt with. I advise avoiding further encounters with Mr Gregor if it is at all possible, and would advise you to cease working with Roberts and Bryant on your project if I had any hope of your listening to that advice.
I can't help a wry laugh. He's right that there's no hope of my quitting the project over this. But the realisation that Lord Blackthorn is making concessions to my stubbornness is surreal. I have no illusions about the fact he would not be doing anything of the sort if Edward didn't care about , but still… stars.
I crumple the notepaper and continue on to the library. Thinking of Edward has made realise how much I miss him. I never thought I'd look forward to soone pedantically correcting at every turn and generally just being better than at magic, but here I am. Maybe it's because Holy Days are approaching, as well, and I hate to think of him alone in Blackthorn Manor.
Especially after I repeatedly turned down his offer to stay with him. Oh, I'm sure he was asking because he wanted to be safe and happy and away from my mother, but it was just as much because he didn't want to be alone.
I'm so lost in thought that I'm not looking where I'm going, and I nearly walk into a woman coming in the opposite direction. I stop walking just as we're about to collide. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying – "
She wasn't looking where she was going any more than I was. She was looking at a patch of empty space a dozen yards behind , but as her gaze refocuses on , I recognise her. Lauren.
" – attention," I finish. Charles First-King. Edwin the Just. Stars, please tell she doesn't know and she didn't see that night and this is just a random encounter to her.
"Nor was I," she replies dreamily. "But I'm starting to think I should have been paying attention to you."
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I ask with my best pretence of confusion.
"No. But I know you. Or I don't. Who are you? No. Wrong question. What are you?"
This ti I don't have to fake my confusion. "What are you talking about? I don't – "
"Lauren, there you are! Don't pester this poor girl – " I recognise the voice of the man who appears and takes Lauren's limp hand. He's the man from that night, the one who seed to be the group's leader. "I'm so sorry, she gets confused sotis – co on, darling, let's get you ho – you'll feel much better once you've had so rest – "
Lauren lets the man drag her away. But as she goes, she looks back at with a startling, direct intensity. It seems to say No. I'm not confused. I know there's sothing special about you. And – maybe I'm imagining it, but it also seems a little like a cry for help.
I'm struck by sudden pity and sympathy for her. Is there sothing I could – no, I realise. No, there isn't. Because if she really does know sothing about the anomaly, if she sought out because of that, then doing anything other than staying very far away from her would be putting myself at far too much risk. And besides, I don't even have any way to find her.
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But… if she does know sothing. If she knows what I am. Then she could well be my only source of answers.
And I don't know what to do. I don't know if I should do anything. Except just go about my day and pretend it didn't happen until an idea erges. I've been standing still on the street, staring into space, as if my gaze could follow her far beyond my line of sight. I shake my head, shrug my shoulders, and walk purposefully towards the library.
One good thing about that little incident is that it thoroughly distracted from the reason I hadn't already signed up with the library right until I get to its helpdesk and start asking.
Because the old woman sitting at the desk inevitably asks my na. And I inevitably have to tell her.
"Tallulah Roberts as in the girl who…"
"Yes," I say, not wanting to find out how she intended to finish that sentence. "That's ."
"Oh, you poor girl! It must have been so awful for you!"
Right. Well-aning but utterly misdirected sympathy, possibly with a side of painting the Blackthorns as villains. It's been a little while since I had to deal with this particular brand of reaction to my existence.
"If there's anything I can do to help you – "
"You can help by letting register for a library card." That wasn't the harsher version I wanted to say, but it still sounds snappish and exasperated at best. Because I am exasperated.
"Right. Yes. Of course. I'll also need your date of birth, and your current address – "
That might be a problem. I don't particularly want my address being a matter of public record. Unlike the office, it has no security wards whatsoever, so the only thing keeping safe while I'm at ho is the fact people don't know where ho is. I don't know where the library records are stored, or who can access them, but it doesn't seem like the sort of risk I want to take.
I should speak to Lord Blackthorn about making it non-trivial for magicians to break into the apartnt. No, I should speak to my dad first, because he's the one renting the place and he should get a say in it. Actually, does the fact we're renting an we need the landlady's permission to set up wards? I've never considered the laws around wardwork before. Another one of those things I thought would never be relevant to until it suddenly was.
"…date of birth?"
Oh. Right. I probably should deal with the problem in front of instead of the many others competing for space in my mind. I give the librarian my date of birth, and decide to give the office address instead of my own in the hopes that will be sufficient.
She raises no objection to it. I wait a few minutes while she fills out the paperwork, sign my na a couple of tis, and listen to her explanation of the terms and conditions without really taking it in (don't return books late or in terrible condition or you might get fined, is the general idea, and I have no intention of doing that regardless).
And then, finally, I have a library card. It's silly of to be this happy about having the power to borrow books, but I can't help the childish glee at the thought of taking ho half of the history section. And now I have magic, which ans I'm no longer limited by what I can physically carry!
I let myself fantasise for a minute or two before reminding myself of more practical things. There is still an upper limit on the number of books I can borrow (if I'm rembering right from the terms and conditions it's twelve, and I can't apply to increase that until I've been a full mber for a year). I'll have to return everything before I leave for the Academy in a week and a half, which ans I wouldn't be able to make it through much more than that anyway. Levitating a pile of books down the street would draw plenty of unwanted attention.
It's still a fun image. And twelve books is still enough.
I find a couple of Magical Theory textbooks. That seems like the easiest subject to teach myself, I've decided. Most of the others require casting spells, and I learn new spells more easily when there's soone to demonstrate them and correct my form. Alchemy is out of the question without access to a lab, and I don't have a good idea of what we'll cover in Magical Law and Culture, which only leaves with the one option.
Plus I've found it fairly difficult so far, so it'll be useful to have a head start this term. Two textbooks ans I still have ten books I can borrow, if I can find the ti to work on them. I select one of the books on Malaina law I was working from yesterday, because it's good for to learn more about all the laws that now apply to regardless of whether they end up being useful for the project.
I wish soone had explained all of that to back at the beginning. Then again, telling a scared and overwheld teenager in detail how the law allows discrimination against them and they can even be legally murdered is… maybe not the best idea. And it would have only reinforced the idea that this was sohow my fault.
Even now, months later and with everything I've achieved, I still sotis wonder if I just wasn't good enough for Genford and that's why I couldn't cope any longer. I set those thoughts aside and keep looking. I make my way to the history section, resolved to get no more than three books given the ti constraint.
That goes about as well as can be expected. I soon have a stack of half a dozen piled up besides while I eagerly browse the shelf for more. I shouldn't take out books I'm not going to have ti to read, but they're all so interesting and I don't want to have to choose between them.
I eventually manage to tear myself away with five books and plenty of regret at not taking more. That and the others gives enough that carrying them is difficult; I should just about have enough room in my satchel once they've been checked out, at least. I wonder if I could cast a subtle levitation spell that would take the weight off my shoulders without making it obvious what I was doing. It's worth trying, at least.
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